


Devotion

by pan_ismyhomeboy



Category: Daredevil (TV)
Genre: Asexual Character, Kink Meme, M/M, One-Sided Attraction
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-26
Updated: 2015-04-26
Packaged: 2018-03-25 21:06:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,093
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3825064
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pan_ismyhomeboy/pseuds/pan_ismyhomeboy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Introspective kink meme fill about an asexual Wesley who discovers he's not as aromantic as he thought - at least, not where Wilson Fisk is concerned.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Devotion

Wesley never cared before Fisk. Wesley never  _needed_  to care. He doesn't love the city like others do; hell, he doesn't even love his own species, nine times out of ten. The world is a mess and there was a time he wouldn't have been particularly grieved to see it go.  
  
But that was before Wilson Fisk came into his life, Wilson Fisk with the vision and the iron clad will, Wilson Fisk with the soft-spoken, tight way of speaking that made it clear every word was painfully sincere, which in turn made something clench deep in Wesley's chest. Wilson Fisk, who needs Wesley desperately and somehow comes to trust him with his entire self.  
  
Wesley has never been deemed necessary or trustworthy at any point before in his life.  
  
He decides, rather quickly, that he likes it.  
  
And he decides that he likes Fisk. Somehow. Despite what his instinct honed over the years have told him about people — that they're no damn good, that everyone has a price (even Wesley), that they're all so many checks and balances that can be bought and sold and threatened and beat bloody until someone gets what they want — despite all that, he looks at the way Wilson looks at him and something just -   
  
He has never cared about anyone before. Not like this. Not with the throb of something painful deep in his gut as he realizes (almost belatedly, almost like he'd forgotten how fragile bodies were) that Fisk isn't immortal, that he can be hurt, betrayed, double-crossed, and stopped. That all this, Fisk's grand plan for Hell's Kitchen (and how the  _fuck_  had Wesley even been roped into all this, he doesn't even care about the fucking city, and sometimes it fills him with anger and despair because he looks at Fisk and he  _knows_  how and why he made his choice to be here, despite all better judgment) that Fisk's plan for the  _city_  is going to earn him enemies. Terrible ones. That Fisk is going to, eventually, have threats and actual attempts against his life.  
  
Fisk almost seems not to care about his well-being. He is an enigma, baffling for reasons that go beyond the fierce bloom of heat in Wesley's chest when he stands at the other man's side. He is soft in ways an aspiring crime lord should not be. He is awkward in situations that require social finesse. And so Wesley jumps in without question, offering his skills as a translator, a mediator, one chosen to speak on his behalf. Fisk wants to transform the city, mold its streets and its docks and its precincts until they're remade in his image? Fine. Wesley only wants to make the world a better place for one man, and it's who he's standing beside now each and every day.  
  
Wesley has never been in love before, and it's not an overall terrible experience. It's not completely devoid of problems, though. This rush of oxytocin is ridiculous, for example. He  _knows_  he's devoted to Fisk, inside and out, and he doesn't need the chemicals in his brain turning his attention to situations that just simply cannot be. He is not going to  _touch_  Wilson Fisk, now or ever. He is not going to imagine the softness of that large hand. He is never going to feel the crush of those lips. But Wesley's brain will hear none of it, insisting on spinning its own tale of what could be if Wesley were a different man and Fisk were a different man and they were not caught in this spider web of danger and crime and intrigue they have both found themselves in.  
  
Would he even want Fisk then, Wesley wonders to himself in the shower one night? (Someone else's blood streams down the drain; it is not the first time this has happened and it will not be the last.) Would he want Fisk if he weren't  _Fisk_? If they had normal lives, if they were the kind of people who would be repulsed by the actions they take every day?  
  
Wesley is not repulsed though, and he knows that this violent life of theirs is a gift, in its own strange way. He does not put faith in destiny — he has his employer for that — but when he contemplates the number of ways his life might have changed to keep him from where he is now, or the number of ways things might devolve horribly and take him away from Fisk's side—  
  
Fisk fills his senses even when Wesley's duties take him far from his side. The expensive cologne he wears, the predictable patterns of his suit jacket, the soft rumble of his voice on the phone. Wesley's days are filled with Fisk, even when he goes to wherever it is he goes when Fisk dismisses him for the night — though lately he's taken to asking, for a second time, if there's anything else Fisk needs, and Fisk looks at him in that immeasurable way of his and Wesley keeps his face neutral, aloof, polite, and tries not to betray himself, but — he wants to. He desperately wants to. He wants to  _stay_ , whatever the hell that might mean for the both of them. He'd fucking blow Wilson Fisk if he were asked and he'd  _enjoy_  it, not because he's a sexual creature but because it's  _Fisk_ , and he needs it, and Wesley can help.  
  
He wants to help. He wants to help so badly it keeps him up at night. He sees the anguish in Fisk's face every goddamned day and it fills him with an utterly incalculable amount of rage knowing that someone,  _something_  did this to him, that the city made Wilson Fisk the way he is today. Wesley is only violent by proxy but he wants to pick up a broken piece of metal piping and see blood and guts and brains for what happened to Fisk. He'd destroy this city all on its own if Fisk only asked, and gladly, with his bare hands and blood soaking into his suits, and a calm, placid smile on his face.  
  
But Fisk doesn't ask him to destroy the city. He asks Wesley to help him  _save_  it. And because Wesley loves Fisk, because he realizes he would do anything in the world for this man, he stands quietly by his side and does not raze the city to the ground like it deserves.  
  
He loves Fisk. He loves him. He does.  
  
And it will be the death of him.


End file.
